arms, then I doubt you’d have come limping home. You would have stayed there for a few days to recuperate,’ said Mrs Ashcroft.
Emma hoped that was what would have happened if her stepmother and half-sister had been there. ‘The house was derelict,’ she said. ‘Constable Marshall said it was bombed during the Blitz.’
‘They’re dead, then,’ said Mrs Ashcroft with a jerk of the head. ‘It’s probably just as well, Emma. You’ll be able to settle down here again now.’
Emma frowned, not liking her family written off so easily. ‘The house was still standing and Constable Marshall believes they’re alive. He’s going to try and trace them for me.’
Mrs Ashcroft looked put out. ‘Was this policeman a young man? You sound like you’re going to be relying on him rather a lot.’
‘He’s in his twenties and it’s part of his job to help the public find missing persons,’ said Emma coolly.
‘There’s no need to take that tone,’ said Mrs Ashcroft, sounding affronted. ‘I’m only thinking of what’s best for you, Emma. Can you really afford to be going back and forth between here and Liverpool if this Constable Marshall finds your stepmother and half-sister?’
‘Surely that’s my business,’ said Emma.
Two spots of colour appeared in the older woman’s cheeks. ‘You sound just like your mother and look what happened to her.’
Emma was really annoyed by that remark. ‘She met my father, that’s what she did. I wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t gone to Liverpool and married him, so I’m grateful that she did.’
‘But she brought you back here,’ said Mrs Ashcroft promptly. ‘There’s no doubt in my mind she believed this village to be a healthier place to live and she hoped to make a recovery. Your father might have followed her here but he didn’t stick around, as you know.’
‘Perhaps that was because Gran didn’t make him welcome. If his great-grandparents once lived here, maybe the two families quarrelled and Gran couldn’t bring herself to accept my father. She could be stubborn and found it difficult to forgive a slight or a wrong done.’
‘What an imagination you have,’ said Mrs Ashcroft with a sniff. ‘But don’t go expecting too much of strangers, Emma. They can let you down.’
‘If you mean Constable Marshall,’ said Emma, ‘he was kind to me, so naturally I think the best of him.’
‘As long as that’s all you do, Emma. You’re far too young to know your own mind yet when it comes to choosing a husband.’
‘A husband!’ Emma gasped. ‘That’s a bit of a leap! I hardly know the man. You’re being ridiculous to suggest that I’d be thinking about marriage so soon, even though I’m not as young as you like to make out!’
‘Don’t be insolent!’ Mrs Ashcroft’s eyes flashed. ‘When a girl is on her own, with very little money, it can be very tempting to accept the first man who asks her to marry him.’
Emma tilted her chin. ‘I intend to support myself and not trust to a man to do it for me, even if it means pawning the coat on my back and every stick of furniture I have.’
Before Mrs Ashcroft could respond to that comment, Emma limped away. She was still angry when she reached the house. It was a relief to get inside out of the cold and go into the kitchen. Instantly, she heard Tibby mewing outside the back door. She let her in, but when the cat stropped Emma’s legs she picked her up. ‘Now you must be careful, Tibby. I don’t want to be falling over you and I need to get the fire lit,’ she said, placing the cat in the front room and closing the door on her.
Emma took a pair of walking socks out of her boots by the back door. She removed her shoes and put on the socks and an apron over her new frock before setting about lighting the fire. Within the hour the kitchen was feeling much warmer; even so, Emma had draped about her shouldersthe shawl that she had made for her grandmother’s birthday before she died. The old
Emma hoped that was what would have happened if her stepmother and half-sister had been there. ‘The house was derelict,’ she said. ‘Constable Marshall said it was bombed during the Blitz.’
‘They’re dead, then,’ said Mrs Ashcroft with a jerk of the head. ‘It’s probably just as well, Emma. You’ll be able to settle down here again now.’
Emma frowned, not liking her family written off so easily. ‘The house was still standing and Constable Marshall believes they’re alive. He’s going to try and trace them for me.’
Mrs Ashcroft looked put out. ‘Was this policeman a young man? You sound like you’re going to be relying on him rather a lot.’
‘He’s in his twenties and it’s part of his job to help the public find missing persons,’ said Emma coolly.
‘There’s no need to take that tone,’ said Mrs Ashcroft, sounding affronted. ‘I’m only thinking of what’s best for you, Emma. Can you really afford to be going back and forth between here and Liverpool if this Constable Marshall finds your stepmother and half-sister?’
‘Surely that’s my business,’ said Emma.
Two spots of colour appeared in the older woman’s cheeks. ‘You sound just like your mother and look what happened to her.’
Emma was really annoyed by that remark. ‘She met my father, that’s what she did. I wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t gone to Liverpool and married him, so I’m grateful that she did.’
‘But she brought you back here,’ said Mrs Ashcroft promptly. ‘There’s no doubt in my mind she believed this village to be a healthier place to live and she hoped to make a recovery. Your father might have followed her here but he didn’t stick around, as you know.’
‘Perhaps that was because Gran didn’t make him welcome. If his great-grandparents once lived here, maybe the two families quarrelled and Gran couldn’t bring herself to accept my father. She could be stubborn and found it difficult to forgive a slight or a wrong done.’
‘What an imagination you have,’ said Mrs Ashcroft with a sniff. ‘But don’t go expecting too much of strangers, Emma. They can let you down.’
‘If you mean Constable Marshall,’ said Emma, ‘he was kind to me, so naturally I think the best of him.’
‘As long as that’s all you do, Emma. You’re far too young to know your own mind yet when it comes to choosing a husband.’
‘A husband!’ Emma gasped. ‘That’s a bit of a leap! I hardly know the man. You’re being ridiculous to suggest that I’d be thinking about marriage so soon, even though I’m not as young as you like to make out!’
‘Don’t be insolent!’ Mrs Ashcroft’s eyes flashed. ‘When a girl is on her own, with very little money, it can be very tempting to accept the first man who asks her to marry him.’
Emma tilted her chin. ‘I intend to support myself and not trust to a man to do it for me, even if it means pawning the coat on my back and every stick of furniture I have.’
Before Mrs Ashcroft could respond to that comment, Emma limped away. She was still angry when she reached the house. It was a relief to get inside out of the cold and go into the kitchen. Instantly, she heard Tibby mewing outside the back door. She let her in, but when the cat stropped Emma’s legs she picked her up. ‘Now you must be careful, Tibby. I don’t want to be falling over you and I need to get the fire lit,’ she said, placing the cat in the front room and closing the door on her.
Emma took a pair of walking socks out of her boots by the back door. She removed her shoes and put on the socks and an apron over her new frock before setting about lighting the fire. Within the hour the kitchen was feeling much warmer; even so, Emma had draped about her shouldersthe shawl that she had made for her grandmother’s birthday before she died. The old
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